Rois et Gages
by Hikaru a
Summary: Or how I learned how to love the itachi-musume. A Shinobi Love ML January challenge 2005. Silliness.


Rois et Gages  
_or how I learned how to love the itachi-musume_  
By Hikaru 

Ship(s): Aoshi/Misao

Summary: A Shinobi Love ML January challenge 2005. Silliness.

The peaceful snow covered scenery outside fooled those who glanced at the Aoi-ya, home of the Oniwabannshu, that fateful day in January. Not giving one hint of the evil plan that was brewing inside of its wooden walls.

It was Aoshi's birthday. And Misao swore up and down, and back and forth, that _this_ year she was going to get it right, and get her dear Aoshi the best birthday gift ever. The moment he saw it, he would instantly realize her feelings for him.

Oh, Misao, how I never realized how much you cared for me, he would say.

Oh, Aoshi-sama, I love you so much, she would say.

Let's get married, he would say, wrapping his arms around her.

And roses would bloom and sparkles would be everywhere and everything would be just perfect. Yes, wonderful indeed. Her ideal dream fantasy.

Of course, if the stupid fool would just _smile_ when she gave her present to him, that would be enough.

She had been agonizing over it for weeks. Counting each day as his birthday grew nearer and nearer, empty handed, and without a clue what would be the "perfect" gift.

When asked, he simply replied, "Something I need."

But what, oh WHAT, did the man need? After all, as an Oniwaban, there wasn't much that they needed in their lives. She had played with the thought of buying him a yukata, or perhaps even making one herself, but after seeing the price tags on nice ones, and realizing that she had no sewing skills whatsoever, she decided that would be a bad idea.

Okina's suggestion had been no better. "I think you should get him a one-night ticket to _Eien no Nozomu_," he said with a wide smirk. _Eien no Nozomu_ was a well-known brothel in the "bad" side of town. She had punched the old man hard for that.

Kuro and Shiro's suggestions had been worthless, as well. She thought, of all the people in the Aoi-ya, either Kuro or Shiro could give her a good idea of what Aoshi would want. They were near the same age, and _male_. They could help her right? "Why not a nice bag of tea?" Shiro had suggested. "He could perhaps use some new tabi?" Kuro offered. Both things Aoshi would need, but not gifts that you would want to give the man who held your heart in his palm.

And so, when the fateful day finally came, Misao had found herself without a perfect gift to give, and therefore, once again, without her perfect happy ending. Completely miserable with her lack of imagination, she sulked on the porch of the Aoi-ya, watching the snowfall as the sun set. At least looking at the city become blank with white helped her forget that she once again had missed her chance.

That was, until...

"_Misao-chan?_"

When Omasu and Okon had approached Misao with very knowing smiles, she should have known that no good was going to come of it. However, being the very trusting girl that she was, not to mention she was practically desperate to hear what they promised her was a "good idea for Aoshi-sama," she blindly followed them into her room.

Their giggling was uncontrollable. This should have registered with Misao as a bad sign.

They sat her down in her room, the knowing smiles still brightly shining on their faces.

"So?" Misao anxiously asked. "What would be the perfect gift for Aoshi-sama?"

The two older women smiled at each other. Omasu brought out a large box wrapped in white paper from behind her back, which she had somehow kept hidden all of this time. She tossed the box on Misao's lap. The young girl looked up at the two and blinked, "You want me to open it?" They nodded, not risking saying anything. "But it's wrapped," she said, very confused.

Okon shook her head, "Don't worry about it, Misao-chan. We have a different _wrapping_ for when we give it to Aoshi-sama." The two accomplices laughed then, giving each other winks and nods that still Misao didn't register. She was too preoccupied by the fact that this was supposed to be the _perfect_ gift. If it was what Omasu and Okon promised... oh what bliss could come from It.

Savagely ripping the package open, she found that inside the box was... not what she was expecting. Nothing even on the same plane that she was thinking the gift might be. Perhaps in bizarro world, this would be the "perfect" gift for her Aoshi-sama, but--

Blinking down at the package, she spat, "What _is_ this?"

"We told you-- it's a birthday present for Aoshi-sama," Okon said.

"You want Aoshi-sama to wear _this_?"

Omasu shook her head and let out an amused chuckle. "No, we want _you_ to wear this _for_ Aoshi-sama."

"_That's_ the present," Okon added, as if that explained everything.

Omasu snickered, "That's why we said, don't worry about the wrapping."

Of course, on the other side of the Aoi-ya, one Shinomori Aoshi had no idea of the cunning trap that Okon and Omasu had drug Misao into. On the contrary, he was playing chess with Okina downstairs. And he was losing, badly. If he wanted, he could blame his losing on the fact that he really wasn't focusing on the game. No, he was much more concerned with the cackling he had heard from Omasu and Okon as Misao followed them upstairs to her room. It did not bode well with him at all. He had remembered Misao asking him weeks ago what he wanted for his birthday. Could it have something to do with that?

Okina moved to take Aoshi's pawn. "Check-" Okina smiled. "It's not often that I get the pleasure of beating you at chess, Aoshi."

"It will be one of the only times you do," Aoshi retorted. He once again looked to the hallway where the three women had disappeared. "They are up to something," he observed, turning his attention back to the game. He moved his king out of the check- but it was inevitable that he was going to lose this round.

Okina seemed unfazed by what Aoshi had said. "You think so?" he mused. Moving the queen to the left, the old man smiled again. "Check." After years with living those two cackling hens, Okina learned to block them out when they got an idea in their heads. Especially, when he knew what they were up to. Usually, in matters such as these, he would at least put up some sort of objection. But after he has seen _It_, he couldn't help but succumb to whatever they asked him to do. It was for Misao and Aoshi's best intentions. Really.

"Shouldn't we go check on them?" Aoshi asked.

"I promised to give them at least one hour to get your surprise ready," Okina explained as Aoshi took his turn. "So until then, you and I are going to play this nice game of chess, or I will have to render you immobile so you do not ruin your birthday surprise."

"What?"

"Checkmate."

"Omasu-san, it's too tight."

"That's because it's _supposed_ to be, dear."

"I don't know about this."

"Hold her still, Omasu, while I try to get this make-up on her."

"Ouch- that _hurts_!"

"Where are you going, Aoshi?" The old man asked. "We're not finished with this round," he sounded offended, but he was grinning that very guilty grin that Aoshi had learned to hate.

"It's been an hour," the Okashira replied. "I'm going to go see what horrors you three have put Misao through this time."

"I don't think _horrors_ is the right word for it," Okina observed, stroking his beard.

_Now_ Aoshi was worried. But he didn't show it. Ever so calmly, yes I'll take my time-thanks, he walked up the stairs of the Aoi-ya. The scenarios that popped into his mind getting worse by the second as he slowly ascended the stairs. Perhaps walking a little quicker would be better. But then Okina would point out that he was worried. Well, he _was_ worried about what those two psychopaths were doing to poor little Misao.

"Here he comes," Omasu gasped, tying the last knot. After making _everything_ was in it's proper place, the two quickly retreated out of Misao's room before they could be seen by the figure approaching in the hall.

"Hey-" Misao called after them, trying to reach out, but found it was not such a good idea to do that.

A dark shadow approached the shoji screen. Misao could feel the sweat pour down her face. Her make-up would probably be ruined by the time her nerves were done with her. As the door slid open, Misao visibly swallowed. Whatever happened, happened, she resigned. And then she would make sure to give Omasu and Okon a good wallop in the morning for tricking her into doing this.

"Misao?" a voice said.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Aoshi paused as the bloodcurdling scream echoed throughout the Aoi-ya. No doubt, that was Misao's voice. Quickly, he ran the rest of the way to Misao's room. His mind was rolling with the possibilities of what Omasu and Okon could have been doing to her. For her to scream so loud--

When he finally came to Misao's door, he found that the shoji was slid open. His nerves eased a little bit. There looked as if there was no sign of a struggle. He slowed his pace back down to a walk, stopping just before the opening to her room. Perhaps Omasu had accidentally pulled on her hair. Or perhaps Okon had-

Oh, he couldn't take it anymore. He peered into Misao's room. It was dimly lit. The candle burning near the door was down to a very small nub. It also made it almost impossible to see anything except the small area that surrounded it. Cautious, he took a few steps, stopping when he found his foot on top of a body. It was an unconscious Shiro, lying face up. His nose was bleeding profusely. And his pants-- my God! Did he have no decency? Aoshi looked away, trying to leave the poor boy with some dignity.

Misao was nowhere to be seen.

"Misao?" he asked the darkness. Perhaps the cackling hens had kidnapped her, knocking poor Shiro out in the process. But then why--

In the darkness, the slightest meek answered back. "I'm here."

His eyes widened as Misao shifted towards the candlelight.

Instantly, he realized why Shiro was passed out on the floor. In fact, being unconscious would have been a really good idea at that point.

She was dressed in a blood red kimono. No embroidery, but the color did enough. Its cloth shimmered in the flickering candlelight. The sight of it just made him want to-- no. Bad thoughts. Her hands were held up very close to her breasts, which were barely just peaking out. He noted why, as he realized that the folds of the kimono and it's undergarments were just threatening to spill off of her shoulders to reveal everything she was trying so desperately to hide. Her hair was pulled back from her face, arranged in a very complex design that he was sure Misao had nothing to do with. There were pins, ornaments, and flowers. The whole arrangement looked like if it were touched, it would collapse in on itself.

And finally, Aoshi found the strength to look up at her face. In her eyes, which sparkled bright blue in the candlelight. Her lips were painted with the same shade of red as her kimono. Parted. It seemed she was having trouble breathing. Aoshi noted that her obi was tied quite tightly. But his mind scolded for him to look back at her face. Her eyes also had hints of the same red painted on their lids. Cheeks flushed, and not just from make-up.

Aoshi had to resist toppling over from shock. Or the simple want to ravish her right there. Either one sounded very appealing at the moment, but he had to have control.

"Um."

Control.

"May I ask--" he couldn't even get the rest of the words out without embarrassing himself. His voice cracked and sounded so... well, salacious.

She blushed deeper, trying her darndest to keep her kimono from completely revealing herself. "H-Happy Birthday."

He stood there. Trying to understand, trying to hold back. How did those two even _talk_ her into doing something like this? No wait, he knew Okon and Omasu better than that. There would have been very little talking, and very much _forcing_.

Not able to help himself, Aoshi's eyes crawled over her body again, taking in every curve, every fold. To see Misao as such a woman in front of him...

He fell to his knees. Helpless. He held himself up with his arms, trying to fight the gravity of the situation from completely pulling him down to the floor. When did he start shivering? Biting his lip, he demanded his body to stop its foolishness and face her like that secluded man that he was.

The sound of shifting of fabric echoed through the very silent room. Aoshi's eyes widened as he realized that she was moving closer. No, no closer, Misao. Not a good idea at all.

"Aoshi-sama, are you alright?" She asked, looking down at him very concerned. There was more worry in her voice now, instead of the uncertainty it held only moments before. "Did Jiya make you drink some sake?"

Shaking his head no, he didn't even attempt to try and form words. From where he was, not only did he see a piece of that damned red kimono, but also an alluring perfume was starting to flow into his nostrils. It was Misao, no doubt. She smelt of the sweetest strawberries. His favorite fruit. They had really _had_ thought of everything.

"Is it me?" she whispered.

A jolt went through Aoshi's body.

Control.

"I told them this wasn't a good idea. This isn't a good birthday present at all-" Misao started to stand up.

Aoshi found the strength to grab at that material. That, soft, shiny material looked ever so appealing. "No," he finally muttered out. "It's..."

"Aoshi-sama?" Misao paused, placing a hand on his back. She knelt down on the floor, placing her other hand on his chest to help him stand.

And that was all he could take.

He jumped on her, knocking her to the floor. She let out a surprised "oh!" but that was the only resistance he got. Starting at her neck, he began to feverishly kiss her, slowly making his way down to her breasts. The kimono obliged his silent request, and decided at that moment to completely spill off her shoulder and reveal the girl's tiny chest. Misao moaned as he cupped his large hands around her breasts. With a very small smile, he pulled away from her, moving his arms to keep her hands safely pinned down to the floor. "It's just what I needed," he hoarsely whispered.

The next morning, Omasu awoke to a very disheveled and tired looking Misao at her door. She noted that the small girl was very much still wearing the kimono that she and Okon had so carefully dressed her in the evening before. However, Misao had managed to pull the kimono over her shoulders, no longer exposing herself as much as she was the night before. The fabric was full of wrinkles and one or two tears. She had also somehow managed to completely mess up her hair, all the carefully placed ornaments missing. "Misao-chan," Omasu pursed her lips in worry. "Did he not like it?"

"No," she blushed. "It wasn't that--" she stuttered, playing with her hands and not looking at Omasu. "He just- He just couldn't-"

"He couldn't _what?_" Omasu pressed. Only then did she realize that putting Aoshi on the spot like that could have made it very hard for him to be able to perform in the way that he would want to perform. After all, he was twenty-nine, and how long had it been since he had a woman, if ever? Oh how ironic that would have been to have Misao-chan so ready for him, but he just couldn't-

"-get the obi undone," Misao finished, letting out a long breath.

Fin?

Cursing out loud, Aoshi's calloused fingers played with the several knots that Omasu skillfully had made in the obi. "How do you get these bloody things undone?" he furiously asked.

Misao tried to catch her breath. In between pants, she said, "I don't know. I thought you would."

"Yes, because I'm so experienced in this sort of thing," he spat. "Why did she have to tie it so tight?" Folding over the kimono so Misao's bare legs were exposed, he said, "I'll just have to work around it, then."

Fin??

The next morning, Kuro came downstairs to find Shiro sitting, by himself at the dining table. He was shivering, and very pale. Worried, Kuro took the seat next to him, his breakfast in hand. "Shirojo-kun, what's wrong?"

White as a sheet, Shiro muttered, "Kimono... noises... obi... Misao... chan..."

All Kuro could do was blink.

_Fin XD_

Notes:  
And that's all I really have to say about that. All those who want to complain there was no sex scene, go right ahead. You will be crying to deaf ears.

As for the obi-- have you ever tried to untie one of those? They are a bitch. To put on as well.

Supplementary title ripped from _Dr. Strangelove_.

Disclaimer:  
This fiction was written for entertainment purposes only. The characters of Rurouni Kenshin belong to Watsuki-san. Standard disclaimers apply.


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